


Desire

by Shamelessly_Radiant



Series: Aparecium [2]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, I did warn you this serie would be ridiculous, I honestly don't even know what to say, contains smut, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 16:20:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4269936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamelessly_Radiant/pseuds/Shamelessly_Radiant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione Granger never was drunk- except for when she was trapped in the past with a Voldemort that did not quite look like a snake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desire

**Author's Note:**

> Because when I am studying my breaks consist of Tumblr and writing ridiculous fanfiction. Sorry? Enjoy and do leave me a little word!

Hermione Granger never was drunk.

She was rational, smart, thought things true, had her life fully planned out-

And was sitting on the step of some restaurants back door in a half lit alley, next to garbage cans with rotting food, and was  staring at the heel of her shoe in her right hand and the remains of that shoe in the left, near crying because _why was her shoe broken?_

To make matters worse: she had no idea where she was.

There were rats everywhere.

Oh and she still hadn't a clue about how to leave this wretched time and return to 1999.

Hermione Granger never was drunk-

Except for when she botched up an experiment for what felt like the _hundredth_ time.

"Granger?" a voice called out, and light flashed in the alley.

Oh yes. That was the worst thing of all. Somehow, the only person that could help her was Tom bloody Riddle, the glorious young Dark Lord.

She did an attempt at standing up... and nearly toppled over. That wretched shoe. Why women couldn't simply wear flats was completely beyond her. That was perhaps why she hated this time most of all.

Strong arms caught her before she could fall, and she slumped against Tom's chest, mumbling incoherently into his shirt.

"Okay, okay, Granger," he shushed her, a hand gently stroking her hair, "Let's get you home, shall we?"

She started laughing maniacally, oh yes, how _great_ would it be if Voldemort helped to get her home safe and well? He tilted her chin and his beautiful, handsome, lovely, angelic _ugh_ face flickered with concern. He probably thought she had gone insane. This was, after all, a very different Hermione than the always collected, highly intelligent classmate he had gone to school with in his seventh year.

Finally she managed to pull herself together- somewhat. "Nooo, don't wannago hoome," she slurred, shaking her head.

"All right, Granger, all right" when she only clung to him tighter, pressing her face into his shirt again, sniffing at his neck, _he smelled good_ , he sighed.

"Hermione. Listen. I'll take you to my apartment then. Are you stable enough to apparate?"

"Wh- h-at?"

He sighed again, raked a hand through his hair, and then suddenly she was weightless. He had picked her up, one arm under her bend knees, the other around her shoulders.

"I guess that's a no. I'd rather not have vomit on my carpet" he remarked lightly, and started walking.

"Pretty hair," she mumbled into his neck, her hand musing it up, "so soft. Smells good. Pretty boy too"

He snorted, but the arms around her tightened.

Hermione continued to mumble nonsense "So strong, so smart, so pretty, so sweet.."

When they finally entered a building his shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

He deposited her on the sofa, sitting down next to her a moment later. "Here, drink this. Sobering potion"

When Hermione made no move to do so, he shifted them so he'd be able to hold up her head, and held the vial to her lips"

Hermione groaned, waiting for the taste to go away and her pounding headache to disappear. When it was almost gone she opened one eye carefully, and when she noticed that the light wasn't too bright she opened them both and relaxed a bit more.

That's when the intimate position she and Tom were in hit her: her legs were draped across his as he sat on the sofa and she half lay on it, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, holding her up, her breasts pressed to his side as her head rested on the junction between his shoulder and neck.

She looked up and met a very amused face and started blushing madly. Oh god. _Pretty boy? Really?_

"So sorry for that"

He smirked at her, laughed a little even.  "Don't worry Hermione, you are _very_ flattering when you are drunk"

His hand stroked her leg soothingly and- his hand was on her leg. It suddenly hit Hermione, with _staggering_ clarity, how far up her skirt had ridden, and the way his calloused fingers stroked lightly, high on her thigh.

Her mouth went dry, and she licked her lips. It did not go unnoticed, and his eyes tracked her lips before slowly meeting her eyes again. The hand on her shoulder tightened, bringing her even closer to him and somehow.. they were kissing.

Hermione never had time to quite grasp it. It almost happened in flashes.

His lips tugging and licking at hers, his tongue invading her mouth as he kissed her breath away.

The realization that they had changed positions, and he was now hovering above her, one leg between hers, pressing wet, open mouthed kisses to her neck, and his thumb making circles on the soft skin between her skirt and blouse.

Tugging at his shirt and touching every inch of skin as he pulled it off, marvelling at his well shaped chest and muscles. His hand trailing around to get rid of her bra and then look at her with a wicked, wicked look before starting to trail kisses down.

One hand in his hair, her back arched as his mouth licked and tugged with her nipple and he slowly eased two fingers in and out of her vagina, his thumb circling her clit and oh, _oh._

Wrapping her arms around his shoulders as he kissed her, one hand playing with her breast, caressing it so softly, without fumbling without pain, and the rhythm he made theirs as he trust in and out, in and out.

Him pushing up to let her see when he caught her looking, and both of them watching, as they joined again and again.

Being gathered in his arms and carried into the bedroom where he tugged her close, whispered: "I've wanted you since you beat me the third time we duelled", and pressed a kiss to her neck before falling asleep.

And hours later the realization that she not only had fucked Lord Voldemort.. but wanted to do it again.


End file.
